Gemotions

He’d been idly browsing real estate, a pastime he never considered a threat. But then, there it was. His gut twisted. The address. His address. The one he’d scribbled on countless homework assignments, the one whispered on birthdays, the one that held all his memories. The listing photos were crisp, modern, completely unrecognizable.

His throat constricted. He found himself incapable of moving, rooted to the chair. The world outside the computer screen seemed to fade away. He stared at the images, his vision blurring. A wave of nausea surged. He gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as if to anchor himself to reality.

He slowly read the details, each word a blow. "Updated kitchen… open-concept living… desirable neighborhood.” He felt utterly adrift, a phantom limb aching for something he knew he couldn’t grasp.